


A Cowards Tale

by FaydeWalker



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6273397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaydeWalker/pseuds/FaydeWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this world, a person who is willing to do the dirty work can be called a few things. Filth. Lunatic. Coward. Monster. None very good words, but we all have a sense of what kind of character belongs to them. And this Coward might just fit all of them.</p>
<p>I mean, he's been called worse before.</p>
<p>Join our mercenary'ish friend in his daily troubles as a 'service' worker. A guy who follows his contractors instructions to a tee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cowards Tale

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little teaser ;) I'd like a bit of feedback to see if I should continue writing it, though I will probably post a few more chaps regardless to get a feel for it.  
> Feel free to critique and praise and whatever else you'd like, as long as it's constructive.

A Cowards Tale.

That’s what they’ll call my story, or so they keep telling.

And I suppose, when I’m done for, that’s the the only title that makes any lick of sense.

You see, I’m in the service business. Favours for monetary, or likewise, compensation. But I’m on a whole ‘nother level of service, because even in this type of labour, people tend to have certain morals. At the very least they usually have some sort of code that they tend to stick to. It’s getting a bit dull to hear about honestly. All these new rookies, whose been on the job for a few weeks, got a taste of the real work, and think they’re on a level where they can give advice, or downright tell people how to do their jobs. It doesn’t take long after they start acting like that before they go on a job and don’t come back.

Good riddance… And it usually always come down to the two most common ones whenever someone tries to preach to others. 

Quick and Painless – This one I can somewhat get behind, and I don’t really mind if that’s how people want to treat their jobs. It’s not a bad principle to go by, and the people in this category tends to survive the longest. A lot of people tend to think that this makes them soft hearted and weak… It doesn’t. If I ever get on the opposite side of a job, I’d rather it not be one of these types. Most of them do it while you sleep. Maybe slip you something in a drink or something. And with the good ones, you’ll never know they were there… that’s downright terrifying…

The other most common type is the worst, most senseless, waste of air kind of people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting… and they’re also the ones I’d prefer to come after me.

I call ‘em, Honour and Glory -  They’re the guys who step in front of their marks, yell some kind of brain dead, probably mirror practiced minor speech, filled with words too big for their mind to fathom, and an equal amount of spittle coming out of their gobs.

You know the type. The one who wants to give everyone a fair fighting chance, and usually completely loses any advantage surprise could have given them. Bloody empty minded bastards if you ask me… They mostly get cut down pretty quick like, but a few do make it into the veteran stage, and there are one or two elites up there too.

I don’t subscribe to either belief… They’re just going to be problems further down the road. But I don’t like my mark seeing me… if that happens, it’s going to be one of three reasons.

I’ve ensured the job is done, no way of stopping it. That means heavy dose of poison or something similar.

That it’s part of the job. Some contracts are like that… probably some freakish fetish from the contractor, wanting them to know their dead… Sick bastards.

“Who the fuck are you!?” A large man, about 5’9, dirty brownish hair with grey streaks and quickly losing what’s left of it, bellows at me as he swings a sort of metal cup straight for my head.

Well… I’ve also been known to fuck up royally on occasion… Oh well… Guess It’ll be messy…


End file.
